Premonition
by tanner
Summary: Jackie has a dream.


Title: Premonition (1/1)

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Jackie has a dream.

A/N:  This is a weird one, the idea popped into my head last night and wouldn't leave until I put it down on paper.  Very vague spoilers for upcoming episodes.

She walks into the room, dressed at the height of fashion, not a hair out of place.  The room is crowded, people are sitting on any surface available, many are standing, huddled in groups.  A disco beat fills the air and soon her heart has matched the rhythm.   An arm hands her a glass, filled with ice and a clear liquid.  She takes the offering, nodding thanks, and slowly sips the drink.

She passes a group of dancers, oblivious to the lack of dance floor.  Furniture is pushed out of place; carpet has been rolled back, revealing the naked wood paneling underneath.  Some dance to the music that has filtered through the room, others are dancing out of time, relying on an inner song.  The couples are oblivious to the surroundings, intent only on the partner before them.

The heat is staggering and she moves into a different room.  It's quieter here, the deep green curtains mask the noise and the haze from the smoke filters the light.  She scans the crowd and realizes she is looking for someone.   Moving into a group she finds her friends, crowded around a table, sharing a pizza.  They talk excitedly but look up to greet her as she approaches.

The conversation has become disjoined, stilted, with her arrival.  They move from topic to topic without segue and she has a hard time keeping up.  They offer no explanations or apologies, just assume that she will understand.  She senses something is wrong and tries to find out who's missing, but each time she opens her mouth they have moved onto a new topic.

A flash of blue catches her attention.  Her eyes follow the swirl of color as it moves across the room.  She finds herself fixated and can't force her gaze away, without reason she stands up and follows.  As she gets closer she sees it's a couple, dressed in the same brilliant shade of indigo.  They're whispering to each other, heads bowed, lost in a world that only allows two.  

She tries to get closer but they walk away, intent on being alone even among the masses of people.  Frustration makes her continue and she leaves the room through a set of ornate black iron gates.

She rounds a corner, but they are out of sight, she starts walking down the corridor, absentmindedly counting the doors as she passes.   She stops at the end of the hall, turning to look at the door on her left, barely noticing the number, 1668.  It is slightly ajar and she reaches out a hand to push it open.  The image before her assaults the senses and steals the air from her lungs.

Anger fills her blood as she recognizes the two figures entwined on the bed.  She tries to call out, but no sound escapes her mouth.  The air has suddenly become heavy, thick.  Breathing is harder she has to concentrate and force the air into her lungs.  They look up with indifferent eyes, and see her framed by the doorway.  

They make no move to break apart, and soon have resumed their activities.  There is a tangle of limbs and sheets, the occasional moan punctuates the silence of the room.  Seeing enough she stalks over to the bed and forcefully separates them, throwing the girl to the floor.  Her heart beats quickly and she can hear the blood rushing in her ears.  

He looks up from his perch on the bed, contempt flashing in his eyes.  He rises and silently reaches a hand down and assists the woman up from the floor.   With a perverted concern he checks for injury, stroking his hands along her arms, whispering words of comfort.  After a long moment he turns to look at her, anger apparent in his every action.  She tries to stand her ground but finds her feet moving backwards.  Without realizing, he has forced her back into the hallway and with a look of indifference shuts the door.

She wakes with a start, breathless, heart racing.  She quickly looks around, barely registering the harsh lines and cool air of reality.  Residual anger flows and she struggles to not lash out at the sleeping figure beside her.  Her eyes are adjusting to the lack of light and she recognizes the familiar setting of his basement bedroom.  She lies back down, cramped by the small confines of the cot.

"You Ok?" he asks, voice rough with sleep.

"Bad dream." She replies, struggling to separate dream from reality.

He throws an arm over her form and pulls her closer, offering comfort.  She relaxes into his embrace, closing her eyes and breathing slowing through her mouth in hopes of relieving the tension.  She feels a soft, chaste kiss on the base of her neck and wills herself back to sleep.

By morning the dream has faded into a series of vague images.  

She can barely recall the feelings it provoked.

And she fails to understand the premonition.


End file.
